Supposedly my Capricorn-Boar birth date supports my dogmatic take on certain things. I take people’s efforts of persuasion as entirely fruitless when they do not benefit a greater good. Anything that is an “acquired taste” is kind of pointless to me. Why should I try to like a material something? What is the point of buying into a particular philosophy that has not come naturally to me, in all my cognitive years? I have a short, but reasonable, list of things I won’t budge on:
- Coffee. I do not like coffee. I do not need coffee to start my day. Coffee is an acquired taste, but I didn’t like it the first time, and I do not need it to keep my synapses going. I don’t see why I should build an affinity for it.
- Beer. I will tolerate beer, but I think it tastes bad. I don’t need beer to enjoy myself. If I need an alcoholic relaxer and there’s something within my price range on the cocktail menu, I will not head for the tap.
- Bikram yoga. I do not like Bikram yoga. I have tried Bikram yoga. I have worked at a Bikram yoga studio. I do not need Bikram yoga. I do not need to defend my right to not like something to people who like Bikram yoga.
- Religion. I was baptised Catholic, spent weeks at Christian camp, was blessed by the Dalai Lama, and graduated from a Jesuit school. I do not participate in organized religion. I have my own set of morals that I created all by my lonesome. And that makes me a very happy Agnostic.
I am, however, all for independent thought. This makes plenty of room in the world for my apathy toward your choices and your own practice of things I will not participate in. I do not care if the first thing you do every morning is order in fake Italian at Starbucks. I do not care if you can distinguish four different labels in a blind taste test of beer. I do not care if you wake up at five to sweat to Bikram yoga. I do not care if the “I ❤ Jesus” part of your Facebook profile is not actually ironic.
I do not care if you think I am uncultured in the ways of the bean, hops, or skivvies workout sessions. I actually don’t care if you think I am a heathen and I am going to “Hell.”
But when you try to descend upon me with poor parsings of semantics, that’s when I care. That’s when you give me ample reason to say, “Yeah, turns out Bikram yoga students really are full of shit. All they wanna do is come off as eclectic, and if you’re not in their camp, you’re not fit to sip from a Sigg.” When you try to paint your way as the only way, you make me roll my eyes.
I am not sorry you feel like you were rejected. I am not sorry your devotion has made you oblivious to the statements “I am not interested. I do not like it.”